


The Princess, the Merger, and the Hot Spring

by WaddleBuff



Category: Love Live! Sunshine!!
Genre: F/M, First Time, Marathon Sex, Multiple Orgasms, Seduction, Smut, hot spring sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-21
Updated: 2018-12-21
Packaged: 2019-09-24 09:55:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 14,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17098415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WaddleBuff/pseuds/WaddleBuff
Summary: All her life, Mari was pampered as a princess, a successor to a prestigous empire.But all of that pressure makes a girl tense. Fortunately for her, she meets a man who can help relieve some of it.





	1. Chapter 1

 

 

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  _ **The Princess, the Merger, and the Hot Spring**_ by  **WaddleBuff**

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( _[sauce](https://www.pixiv.net/member_illust.php?mode=medium&illust_id=63359183)_ ) [♪](https://youtu.be/BVO_R8uvMhE?t=10m45s)

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Most multi-generational corporate families, after decades of plateauing ingenuity and leaking assets, could aptly be described as “staying afloat”, with just enough of their former glory to let them scrape by in blossoming new markets, just enough fresh blood to keep their names somewhat relevant.

The O’Hara family is not part of that majority, deigning to soar above with wings of uncannily-steady profit margins instead of cutting through paltry fiscal waves trying to “stay afloat”.

In no other member of the O’Haras was this spirit of constant, unrelenting drive for progress and profit better embodied than in Giovanni O’Hara. The only son of Donatello O’Hara III, Giovanni spearheaded the sixth generation of the family’s dealings, all of their takeovers, property appraisals, mergers, project investment appraisals, all of it falling square on his shoulders. He was tasked with the responsibilities meant for _several_ O’Hara’s seeing how none of his father’s six brothers and sisters conveniently (or rather, inconveniently) had any heirs of their own.

But, with a childhood consisting of progressive education befit of a prodigy, formative years surrounded with the wisdom of experienced mentors who had worked alongside his father and grandfather, and a fierce, dogged attitude to seize every opportunity thrown his direction, Giovanni managed to not only successfully manage and oversee every single one of the responsibilities beset upon him by his forerunners, he managed to take the O’Hara name to places it's never been, seizing more assets than the family had ever seen.

Utilizing the vast network of connections that had been built for him since a child, it only took four years from his early graduation from Harvard Business School (where he triple-majored in Business Administration, Economics, and Japanese) to become the CEO of O’Hara Worldwide Holdings Inc., the core brand of his family dynasty, spanning the entire globe with hotel chains, resorts, and a forthcoming cruise line.

Eight years from that, and Giovanni sat atop as head of the O’Hara corporate family, with more clout than his seven forerunners combined; at only age 32, Giovanni O’Hara was the majority shareholder of three multi-billion dollar conglomerates in a variety of industries, earned the title of CEO of O’Hara Worldwide Holdings Inc. by mostly his own merit and perseverance, and successfully maneuvered four subdivisions of O’Hara Worldwide through several messy, messy mergers without a _single_ hitch.

He had the world at his feet, a veritable mogul in the business world, listed as #79 on _Forbes_ yearly _World’s Billionaires_ list, being the very first O’Hara to break the 100 mark. For all intents and purposes, Giovanni O’Hara was a king, and his domain could only grow more vast.

But alas, as young as he was, with all of the assets he had, Giovanni would soon disappear, and that domain would remain comfortably large but not an inch larger. The conglomerates and all of his other acquisitions remained, but his active involvement slowly but surely diminished until he finally only personally ran O’Hara Worldwide Holdings Inc. Gone was his vigor and ever-upwards attitude for expanding the O’Hara brand, and soon, it became very apparent that the once-unstoppable Giovanni O’Hara had peaked and plateaued at his own volition.

In other words, before he even hit the age 40, Giovanni had found satisfaction, and had virtually retired.

The reason?

As with most kings and sovereigns, Giovanni had fallen in love.

In his particular story, it was a beautiful woman he met during a property appraisal in a quaint seaside town on the northern tip of Japan’s Izu Peninsula. She was the first woman to greet him, the manager of the hotel on the property he was to appraise, but once his eyes locked onto hers, he didn’t care.

His desire for her burned harder and brighter than most. He had the disposable pleasures of all the women of his choosing, but Giovanni had always felt lonely. With success at such a young age, there wasn’t any time to make any meaningful connections, no time for intimacy that was meant to last, especially not in his field, and _especially_ not in women outside of it. But this woman, manager, whoever she was, she understood him. She could see him as more than just a corporate mogul, or a resource, or a potential leverage point; she saw him as a man, a man with needs, a man who was lonely sitting on a throne.

So as fast as he had built his kingdom, Giovanni decided to lighten his responsibilities, letting the kingdom run itself. He instead focusing on nurturing his family, loving his _queen_ , filling in the void that he had neglected in his heart for too long. And soon enough, he would spend all the time he could spare with the most important acquisition in his entire career: his daughter and his heir, Mari O’Hara.

Lavished by her father’s riches and his love, along with her mother’s tender attention and grooming, Mari always felt like a princess. She had that fact affirmed by all those around her as well, relatives and maids and such who would compliment her golden head of hair, how dainty she was, how poised she was, how quickly she learned to be a lady.

But eventually, the duties of being the O’Hara’s young king took her father away from her, and just like that, most of that attention lavished upon her left, left as soon as Giovanni had to return to Italy to manage O’Hara Worldwide in person. She knew he still loved him, but in her formative years when it was just her and her mother, and eventually, just her alone after her mother’s career also tugged for her, Mari O’Hara realized that being a princess didn’t only mean that she was to enjoy the benefits and luxuries therein, but also bear all of the responsibilities that came with it.

And to learn to bear all those responsibilities by herself.

Just like her father, Mari was the lone child of the current O’Hara generation, and her parents had no intentions of making another. It was an unspoken fact that she would soon take her father’s large mantle, manage all of the O’Hara family’s assets, maintaining it, making sure that their name and reputation still lives up to the legacy of generations past.

And just like her father, as the next in line for the throne, Mari was eager to take the mantle of the O’Hara family head.

She knew of her destiny all of her life, and she never complained. From the time she was a child to her teenage years, Mari eventually realized the grooming and constant tea parties with her mother and dozens of other mentors weren’t just formalities or pastime activities, it was training. But that realization merely made her more eager to learn, to hone her charm.

She wholeheartedly put in her best effort, no matter the task. And in no other way did her royal priming show its fruit than when her father began to send her out with her mother to formal gatherings, to grand openings overseas, and eventually, to be a personal tour guide to very important figures during their on-site appraisals.

It was stressful at times, keeping her smile, knowing when to push and when to pull, when to act coy and sweet, and when to show a little ice and show her knowledge and professionalism, but astoundingly, Mari _always_ enjoyed it, as much as she enjoyed the conditioning befit of corporate royalty she received as a child.

Knowing the power she had over these people with just her _name_ alone, and eventually when she turned of age, with her looks and the way she presented herself with the many, many languages she conquered and the different array of smiles and subtle touches her mother had taught her, it made it all seem like what she was born for, her regal responsibility and manifest destiny.

Indeed, when things came down to the wire, Mari could tell that _she_ was sometimes the sole factor between a sell or a loss, her charm and her wit and her persuasive diplomacy, she had a natural fire and aura that no amount of grooming could have instilled inside her. It was as empowering as it was invigorating, giving her a sense of purpose than many of her age only dreamed of as they floundered about in search of direction.

And of course, the thousands upon thousands of dollars’ worth of designer dresses, bags, clothing, and accessories purchased for the benefit of her calling was just a fat plus.

Her confidence and sense of self-affirmation merely doubled in her third year of high school upon joining Aquors. With her heart fully-mended with her friends, and finally being _home,_ to live there in that quiet seaside town after two years of overseas study and flying around at her father’s beck and call, Mari felt whole, and when her father would eventually call her to tell her of clients and associates and potential partners he would like her to accompany, she truly felt like a princess, one that would eventually become the O’Hara queen.

It’s in this stage of Mari O’Hara’s life, confident and swelling with the pride and skills from her family business as well as the admittedly nerve-wracking new responsibilities of being a school idol, that Mari made an impulsive decision, one that, didn’t truly impact much, but one that shifted her perspective on future clients, and her perception of herself as a woman.

For if Mari was the proud princess of a renowned king, tonight as she slinked into the vacant hot springs with a nervous but excited blush on her cheek, she was a pure princess scandalously seducing a lowly knight into her arms.

She couldn’t believe it when she had invited him, the man sent from Osaka’s Hilton branch, the man who was supposed to appraise and report back to the shareholders interested in becoming possible future proprietors of a brand-new, joint-operated resort, right here on the tip of the Izu Peninsula.

Rumors also whispered of a possible merger between O’Hara Worldwide Japan Division and the Hilton Japan Division, boosting the collective shares of both parent corporations and effectively becoming the unrivaled hospitality company in all of Japan.

When Giovanni had called in and told her the details, the stakes,  told her how she should show him around the town, act like she usually did, use her charm, never give in to any corporate tricks in trying to lower the asking price, etc, etc, the usual, Mari confidently passed it all off as another job. She knew the drill. Show them around, show them the hot spots the town had to offer, coyly joke and playfully making conversation but _never_ flirt, compliment outfits and choices of jewelry and makeup, the usual.

And as she waited at the bus stop to show the man to escort the man to the hotel with a chauffeur and a private car right after school (she didn’t bother to change out of her uniform; her parents had always encouraged her to wear it during tours in close proximity to home since it had a “homey and innocent charm”), Mari prepped herself, looking at what little makeup she had on in her pocket mirror, making sure the curls in her hair were right.

Then, with a pneumatic hiss of the bus,  the client finally arrived, and as he stepped off, Mari O’Hara instantly knew that this wasn’t just another job, just another client.

Because with all of the details her father had briefed her with, as she shook the client’s hand with a smile that almost cracked into a nervous lip bite, she internally squealed and reprimanded one important factor her father had forgotten to inform her of: contrary to the usual middle-aged or elderly men and women she escorted around, the Hilton from Osaka wasn’t only young, but he was _hot_.

And to her pure and utter horror as she spent the rest of the day with him, cycling through the usual formalities, playing through her usual acts, he was also _exactly_ her type.

She didn’t even know she _had_ a type!

His name was Elliot Mori, age 28. A private appraiser for Hilton Worldwide, he was currently in residency in Osaka. The company was planning to expand, hopefully erecting at least four new branches across the country before the tourism boom expected post-2020 after the Olympics, and cooperating with their main rival in the nation instead of competing with them seemed like a perfect place to start.

He explained all of this, the formal intentions of his visit, as if it reading off a ship manifest, all of the words seemingly rehearsed. His demeanor wasn’t cold, but quiet. He wasn’t exactly calculating, but precise. His words weren’t minced, but pragmatic. So, in short, inexperienced.

Even at her young age, Mari could see the subtle differences between a professional with years in the industry below their belt, or a young business greenhorn with only a couple years plus an internship; it was commonplace to see the more experienced visitors Mari escorted to act more natural, less formal in their exposition.

But instead of being annoyed or condescending, Mari was enamored by him.

There was this...certain charm to the way he drabbled on, because beneath it, and in moments where the conversation would lull, she saw that he was immensely disinterested in the whole affair. That fact made itself more apparent as she went through the motions of trying to woo him, showing him the assigned estate, telling him all of the statistics and monetary values she had memorized. He wrote it all down, attentive, but his eyes seemed to always have this distant look to them, and Mari wondered what those pools of dark jade would look like if they were doing things he _wanted_ to.

Much to her surprise, anxiousness, and delight, it was only when he looked at her when he thought she wasn’t paying attention, when his eyes would flash during a rare smile while they made small talk, or when he would catch _her_ checking him out, like the day the setting sun cast a fiery pink around angular cut of his jawline, and he turned to catch her eyes with his with a knowing smile.

There was more to him than he let on, and she was desperate to know what he hid. She found her mind on him every moment they weren’t together, like he was a puzzle for her to solve. He was too smart to be wooed by her usual superficial charms, he saw right through her scripted lines, shot down her subtle attempts to maybe put in a word to his superiors to slightly adjust the asset distribution in the rumored upcoming merger.

And the fact that his lean, almost militaryesque look with his short, scruffy hair, the clean-shaven visage, the subtle _muscle_ beneath his polyester suit was so damn distracting didn’t make her quest any easier; when her thoughts would ponder what his interests were or how to get him to open up to her, without warning Mari found herself blushing into the reflection of her tea as she suddenly thought of how his lips would feel on her neck, or how the hand that brushed hers on occasion would feel grasping her thighs.

Indeed, in the three days she had known him, Mari found herself invested in him more than she had been invested in any other boy or man before. Sure, he wasn’t exactly the same pedigree as the eligible young princes of commerce his father would introduce to her during galas, but be it the base, physical attraction to his simple flavor or the mystery behind his quiet facade, Mari wanted him. In what way exactly, she didn’t know, all she knew was that she wanted him to keep looking, looking, looking at her with his warm jade.

In truth, Mari was lonesome. Of course she had Kanan,  she had Dia, she had all of Aquors now too, and she loved them all, truly. But that world of warmth, of friendship, of being a _normal_ teenage girl wasn’t the world she lived in. In the eyes of her friends, the only times her world would peek into theirs was when she would bring them exotic dishes, swing by in her private helicopter, remind everyone that she was part of the school administration due to _donations_ alone.

They knew she was affluent, they knew she was on a different caliber than them; it’s not like her status as heir of the O’Hara kingdom was a secret. But they still didn’t truly understand what it meant to be who she was, who she was _meant_ to be. Indeed, as she looked out from her veranda towards the limitless expanse of the indigo horizon, in this world she had prided herself in and thrived in, she was alone.

With her father two oceans away and her mother on the opposite tip of Japan, there was nobody who understood, nobody else who could see her as the princess that she was beyond the wealth and the glamor and the upper crust charm because they wouldn’t _understand_ the significance of her world and its mundanities; who was she to burden her friends with tales of widening profit margin percentage in four consecutive fiscal quarters, inquisitions of red oceans with strategic viral marketing, and how the floundering dividend yields of an average middle-class Japanese family would prove disastrous in the qualitative post-Olympics tourism boom predictions?

Not to mention that none of her friends had that killer smile and _smelled_ nearly as enticingly as he did.

Mari, whether she was fully aware of it or not, was a princess without a court, a princess without chambermaids. And in her solitude, the appearance of Elliot, dashing in his own, maddeningly-normal way, was her chance for a connection. A connection she grew to want more and more as the hours went by and the date of Elliot’s return flight to Osaka approached ever-closer.

Fortunately for her, by the fourth day of his weeklong stay, she discovered the key in unlocking whatever he hid from her: all she needed to do was ask. In her whole life of playing diplomatic, verbal games of chess, easing information with calculated charm, she wasn’t prepared for a man from that world to be so blunt.  

To Mari’s delight, when she would veer off the script and start small talk like asking him where he was from (he was born and raised in Osaka, with a father who was the owner of an Osakan novelty shop and his mother an English professor from Tennessee who taught at a local university), ask the chauffeur to pull over and show him beautiful spots in the town that weren’t in the designated tour (she giggled at his request for a small break to catch his breath during their upwards trek to the shrine), and when she would daringly _flirt_ with him (usually by impulse, almost never by plan), Elliot’s eyes would melt, just like how they melted when they looked at her, when they seemed to look right _through_ her.

It was a fascinating feeling, feeling like a man, people she usually would have wrapped around her finger for the sake of her own ego or her father’s profits, that one of them could actually pierce through the facades and motions she had built and practiced all her life. But soon, when those eyes began to look at her a little more daringly, when Elliot would even dare to flirt back...the feeling grew more than fascinating.

By the fifth day Mari found the feeling to be...arousing.

Passing, trifling imaginings had plagued her earlier on in the week, but at this point Mari _actively_ began to daydream, to fantasize, to desire for the feeling he instilled in her whenever they strolled around the town together.

She wanted it, needed it, imagined his eyes on her when she curled up alone in the ivory tower of her lone hotel room. She wanted him to scale the wall of the resort, and she would bolt up from her bed as the ocean’s breath rustled through the sheer curtains sending a chill through the sheer lace of her nightgown. No more would she feel only her fingers as an intimate companion, calling up Kanan or Dia for midnight company only to conversate with their snores. Elliot would be there, Elliot would want her as much as she wanted him, Elliot would look at her with eyes lustful and desirous.  

Then he would advance upon her, and she would close her eyes, still basking in the feeling of how his eyes _lavished_ her, and his lips would be on her chin, on her face, she would sigh until his lips found hers, his hands found her hips and-

Mari withdrew the hand from the upper hem of her panties, eyes widening at how wet, how sticky her fingers had become. It was clear now more than ever she wanted him for more than just the mystery, more than just a friendship.

She wanted him as a man.

So on the sixth day, when all the hot spots on the itinerary were exhausted, all of the official appraisals of values and potential positioning of properties were all through, Mari looked at him coyly, with a look that she knew would usually make the hearts of most man throb.

“It’s been a long week for you, I’m sure, Mr. Mori,” she said as they shared another dinner in her resort’s empty restaurant. “Fortunately, I saved one of the best things about this town for last.”

“Oh?” Elliot said, lips curling into a grin around the fork that just plunged into a sliver of his filet mignon. “And what’s that?”

“A quiet little _ryokan_ ,  just a ways up the hill two streets over from the shrine with an onsen that directly overlooks the ocean.”

“Sounds gorgeous,” Elliot said. Mari noted the way his eyes glinted at the word ‘gorgeous’, but also how his eyes darted down to his plate, as if in regret. “Also sounds like you’ve been holding out on me.”

Mari giggled, biting into her duck rillette with a casual smile. She was terribly good at hiding how hard her pulse raced.

“I did say I saved the best for last~” she said, cheerfully. Then, taking an imperceivable breath that calmed the dreadful heavy artillery fire of her pounding heart, she looked up at Elliot with eyes that were teetering on suggestive. “And the springs are private, of course. I made sure to book the entire property for your leisure.”

Elliot chuckled.

“I’m sure that isn’t necessary.”

“You say that now, but you sure haven’t complained about how empty our restaurant has been every night, even if we’re at more than fifty percent capacity.”

Mari let her cheek playfully rest on her palm, brow raised in challenge.

_Ba-bump, ba-bump, ba-bump._

Elliot shrugged at her, eyes warmer than they had ever been, and he grinned at her, flashing his teeth.

_Babumpbabumpbabump_

“So that’s what’s been going on. I just assumed the guests didn’t like the food.”

“Are you insinuating _you_ haven’t enjoyed the food we’ve eaten for the past week?”

“Well...they say half the pleasure of a good meal is the company you’re with…” Elliot said, trailing off. Before clearing his throat.

**_BABUMPBABUMPBABUMP_ **

Mari noticed his warm eyes dart away again, as if he was catching himself, but she didn’t peer into it, her pulse was hammering harder than amplified taiko drums for her to care. A silence. Odd for Mari; mother had always told her to never let there be silence unless the lull was for dramatic effect, a lesson buried in Mari’s current admiration of Elliot’s downcast eyes.

Elliot cleared his throat again to fill the silence. “Um...anyway, thank you. For everything, and the...onsen, though like I said, I really wouldn’t have minded if it wasn’t fully reserved,” he looked up at her again eyes still warm and playful but with a hint of...restraint. “Maybe would have gotten a more authentic taste of the local culture if I had a chance to mingle with some of the other guests.”

At this point, Mari couldn’t withhold herself.

“Oh, don’t worry, you’ll still have an authentic taste of the locals regardless,” she said, gulping hard and deftly grabbing her tea, raising it to her lips to hide her blush. She didn’t see how Elliot reacted to the _blatantly_ -suggestive comment, but she heard him clear his throat again. By the time she lowered her cup, he was smiling at her, cutting into the last few slivers of his steak.

“Alright, I’m looking forward to it then.”

Mari gave him another grin, and a little less than 24 hours later, here she was, stark naked aside from the large bath towel wrapped around her skin, almost shivering in anticipation and anxiousness. As she stood next to the calm and clear surface of a shallow pool, she contemplated, recollected, and, most importantly, tried to calm the heart that constantly tried to batter its way out of her chest.

She was lucky that she was even able to be able to reserve the entire Takami Inn property on such notice, which most likely wouldn’t have happened if she wasn’t friends with Chika. Utilizing a little bit of her negotiating skills and her penchant for spending her father’s money, Mari had successfully secured the entire Takami property for two days and two nights, sending away (basically forcefully vacating) Chika, her sisters, their parents, and even their shaggy Shiitake to an all-expense-paid trip to O’Hara Worldwide’s Seoul property, with enough spending money to amount to at least triple whatever paid leave Chika’s sisters were receiving.

The sun had just set, stubborn tendrils of its orange clinging to the cold precipice where sea met sky. Already the moonbeams addled the twilight’s chill. And although she was embraced in the thick, almost-opaque columns of hot swirling steam, Mari shivered. She absentmindedly beheld the advent of dusk, goosebumps on her bare arms.

Where she stood, the way it felt as she stood, it felt like the eye of the storm. Or rather, the calm before a battle. She wasn’t thinking straight. At least, that’s what she kept repeating to herself as she softly chewed on the nail of her thumb. Inviting Elliot to this place, for her to spend with him _alone_ ... _naked_ ...there really was only one outcome to all of it, one that was uncharacteristically-impulsive of her. It was all happening so fast, the days and the things that had led to her dipping her toe into the onsen’s shallow pool seemingly interlaced in inseparable weaves, as if this was _meant_ to happen.

As if she was _meant_ to have met Elliot, felt true youthful desire for a man for the first time in her life, and eventually...attempt to seduce him.

Shouldn’t she be more scared? Shouldn’t she be feeling at least a _little_ more apprehensive? At seventeen, girls were usually more prudent and selective with their first. She had always thought it would be some prince charming she fell in love with at some university or one of the suitors carted in by her mother. Never would she have thought her desire would flare up this intensely, this _hotly_ within the span of a few days.

As much as Elliot had confided in her, in all truth he was still just a man she had known for a week.

The hot water of the small pool began to inch up Mari’s smooth legs, legs she just shaved, legs that she moisturized and made sure would ready for Elliot’s fingers. She let out a soft sigh at the relief of heat, of how the water’s silky yet weighted embrace grasped at her skin.

Mari hesitated when the waterline reached her upper thighs, just resting beneath the soft curvature of her rump. The lower hem of the tower hovered a mere inch above the water’s surface, as she stood there, still contemplating, still conflicted. Her hands clutched the white of the towel and her eyes peered deep into the clearness of the spring, pupils of gold seeking an answer as she did when she peered into her nightly cups of tea.

Elliot’s jade flashed in her mind, her chest echoed the sensation of his chuckling on her skin from the time she stumbled into him during a short hike. And she remembered the night after the nerve-wracking dinner with him, after the hourlong shower of her tentative fingers playing with her maidenhood, how those fingers became unabashed, how she writhed in passion she had never let herself succumb to, thinking of him, wanting him, _needing_ him when his potential embrace was oh-so-close...how she came, how _hard_ she came, how empty it felt when the only body heat she could curl up in was her own...

With that, the grip of on her towel loosened. Unfurling her arms, Mari bared herself, reaching out behind her to let the only cloth between her and the evening chill spill onto the stone. She beheld herself momentarily in the soft ripple of the water’s surface, just as she had beheld herself in her bedroom’s mirror earlier that evening, poring over every inch of her bare form, lifting her arms up, making sure not a hair was left in undesirable nooks, no blemishes, how her chest might look from different angles, how coyly she could hide it with her arm.

What she noticed most before she finally stepped into the spring to let the water embrace her body up to her chest, was the blush on her cheek. She wasn’t completely red and flustered, wasn’t embarassed, no, the blush she recognized as the blush of excitement, of adrenaline she felt before a big Aquors performance, the blush she couldn’t hide during their first time in preliminaries.

The blush she had when she first fingered herself.

Soon, as Mari relaxed, braiding her hair and making sure it stayed up, she found that the only thing contributing to her rapid pulse was just how excited she was. Nervousness, of course, was a factor, but it was buried, cast aside with the rest of her previous musings and contemplations. In this moment, waiting for her knight to arrive, praying that he would fall for her charms, Mari finally decided that she would lay aside whatever pride, status, shame she had.

A princess always got what she wanted, and if there was _anything_ she was certain of in the messy, messy musings of her head, it was that she wanted Elliot. And she wanted him _badly._

“M-Miss O’Hara?” a voice suddenly said behind her a little stunned.

Lo and behold, a few feet from the exit leading into the changing rooms, stood Elliot Mori, clad in just a small bath towel. His eyes were darting between Mari’s catlike grin and the towel behind her

“Mr. Mori…” she said, almost in a purr. “Welcome! You came earlier than I expected.”

He didn’t say anything for a moment, eyes widening when he realized Mari’s breasts were on full display, wet, steaming, and skin shining above the water. He gulped.

 


	2. Chapter 2

“Y-Yeah, I just. I know you said I just needed to let myself in and I had the place to myself so um. I just yeah, I just didn’t know yo-”

“Is everything okay, Mr. Mori?” Mari said, shifting her body onto the stone floor next to the spring pool, eyes painted in faux concern as she kneeled on the underwater seating ledge. “You look cold...maybe come in and join me?”

The smile she shot him almost had a physical effect on Elliot, especially with the way she was positioned now, her breasts spilling over the precipice of the floor, arms cushioning them to conveniently conceal the pink of her nipples, her soft arms wet with water on the stonework of the ground, and most scintillating of all, Mari’s shapely ass, cheeks _just_ below the water where Elliot’s gaze could see their curvature, the water tightly hugging the soft, soft skin above it like a backless dress.

He gulped again, and Mari knew she had the situation under her control.

Any trace of bashful nervousness she had about sharing the small area with Elliot with her nakedness on full display began to dissipate with the steam wisping off the water’s surface. Instead, she was slowly with her usual confidence and playful domineering amusement as she kept looking at him, inviting him.

“I _did_ say you’d still have a taste of the local people, didn’t I?”

“Yes, well-”

“Would you...like me to come out and lead you in by the hand?”

Elliot nearly ran to the waterside.

“No, that’s. That’s unnecessary.”

Mari giggled, the first of many tonight as she watched him. He was being so uncharacteristic, so shy and bashful. She slipped back into the water, keeping her eyes on him, looking away only when he gave her a wry grin as his hands were about to undo his towel (though she was very tempted to have bitten her lip and wordlessly beckoned him on without her gaze leaving his body).

He slipped in almost silently, and Mari looked over at him again, eyes coy.

“Why don’t you come a little closer?”

“Might not be the best idea, Miss O’Hara...” Elliot chuckled, the warmness of his eyes returning. He tried to make eye contact with her, but it seemed her cleavage (purposely positioned to be _just_ the right height above the waterline) acted as a magnet. The way he trailed off reminded her of his flirt the night before. He was hiding something from her, and the tantalizing mystery was just as tantalizing as his firm chest, shiny with a sheen of the spring water.

She bit her lip, scooting closer to him without realizing.

“And why is that? I don’t bite, you know…”

Elliot didn’t look at her. He took a deep breath, and to Mari’s surprise he was biting his lip too.

“It’s not for my sake.”

The bluntness and forward nature of his answer brought the widest smile to Mari’s face, for in that instant, she knew why his flirts trailed off, why his bashfulness didn’t seem like genuine embarrassment, but more of a formality.

Elliot was trying. He was trying so hard not to look look at her, his usually-cool facade was almost completely breaking. She could feel the want, _feel_ how much he wanted to.

His eyes were glazed over with that want, but they were wide with anxiousness she never thought she would see in a man like him. He wasn’t scared of her, as many men would probably be in the situation, stuck in a hot spring with a naked corporate heir high schooler, he was scared of the consequences, scared of how he could possibly hurt her.

But none of that mattered to Mari as she kept looking at him, almost _glaring_ at him with a look that screamed “I know your secret now, there isn’t a point in hiding it…”. She thought it was sweet that he was showing restraint, that he wasn’t even taking advantage of how... _forward_ she was being, advancing upon him mere minutes into him joining her in the onsen.

She coyly circled a finger around a stray lock of her blonde hair. She started to scoot closer...inch by inch, making sure her progress was slow enough that she didn’t startle him until...when he finally noticed and opened his mouth to speak again, she beat him to the punch. There wasn’t any hesitation in her actions, none of that apprehension.

Mari felt like she was with one of those clients who she knew would give in to any of her father’s demands due to her charm, felt like she had full control of a situation that, in the past week, she thought she would never have any control over at _all._

And God, did it feel good to see the object of her onset of affections squirm, to see that he hung on her every whispered word to rile him up.

“You know...it’s okay for you to look, Mr. Mori…” she said, as innocently as ever. At her current distance, that chest of his was _just_ close enough to touch, just within reach if she wanted to...a fact that accompanied the exciting realization that _her_ chest was close enough for his touch as well. She giggled with a bite of her lip, looking at him with hooded eyes. Her arms crossed gently under the water with the sole purpose of pushing up her cleavage for a more ample view.

Elliott’s Adam’s apple bounced as he gulped a fat, nervous gulp. Mari saw his eyes drift down tentatively towards her chest and the ripply view of her naked thighs before they darted away in a blink. He didn’t respond to her, but Mari made sure that she gave him ample time until he could.

“We...we shouldn’t be doing this, Miss O’Hara, I should have known better than to even come here ton-”

“Doing what?” Mari said, raising a finger from the water to her lips with a questioning tilt of her head.

Elliot gave a sigh with a hint of exasperation before his anxious rigidity returned, much to Mari’s delight. She had absolute full control of the situation, full power over his body, his willpower, and whatever happened next, and she knew it. She would just have to make sure that he knew it too.

The problem was that as the seconds passed and the possibility of his touch on her skin growing ever-larger, Mari was losing control of her own body.

“Y-You know full well what I mean, Miss O-”

“Mari.”

Elliot turned his head to her, this time it was his turn to give her an inquisitive look, expressed in the furrow of his brow.

“Excuse me?”

“That’s my name, _mister_ , and I would appreciate it if you’d use it,” Mari said, that oh-so-innocent voice of hers seamlessly switching gears to sultry as her near-whispers kissed his neck.

It was at this point that poor Elliot realized just how close she was, and, almost instinctively, his gaze once again shot downwards to her ample chest, tantalizingly within reach as she leaned towards him, one knee perched on the underwater sitting ledge

Mari giggled, intentionally letting the titter echo in the form of a slight jiggle in her breasts. A chill ran through her skin then as a stray gust of wind whisked through the inn’s backyard. But she barely felt it, her heart pumping with adrenaline, with the anticipation of going in for the kill, excitement for discovering the unknown.

“That...that, really isn’t appropriate,” Elliot said, his resolve very plainly fading, as he gave another fat gulp. The way his eyes were now unabashedly on her skin, how it curiously traveled from her breasts with a glazed, barely-hidden desire to her shifting thighs beneath the water, to the smoothness of her arms, it made Mari just as excited, just as wanting, but most exciting of all, it made her just as _hot_.

“I doubt it’s any more inappropriate than the way you’re looking at me, Mr. Mori…”

He looked up at her eyes then, realizing that she had scooted her way right next to him now. He felt the smooth, hot skin of her arm press against his bicep, and swore that he could smell traces of gardenia in the braids of her blonde. Then, with the very last reserve of his self-control, Elliot turned his face away.

“This is about to go too far, Miss O’Hara and I-”

Midsentence, he was about to make the move to turn his body away completely as well when his progress was halted in its tracks, his muscles turning to stone. A divine softness pillowed on his back, water trickled on his chest as smooth, smooth forearms encircled the area around his collarbones. He felt hot breaths on the nape of his neck and the cool exhale of a giggle that reverberated through the soft, hot flesh on his back, through the two pebbly patches that scintillatingly-scraped against his wet skin.

Wordlessly, Elliot  sat back down, feeling those breasts slide off him, letting Mari’s hands press his shoulders down back into a seating position, feeling his resolve to leave this place completely melt away. He looked at her as she looked at him, reaching a hand out to cup his cheek. Her fingers felt so soft and dainty, even under the small layer of dripping water.

“I _like_...the way you look at me, Mr. Mori...” Mari said, peering deep into his eyes. She had full control of the situation, yes, but in this moment, the desire that was beginning to spike within her as her other hand stroked his thigh beneath the water was beginning to take over. “Keep looking at me.”

He took a minute to peer deeper into her eyes, to see what she could have _really_ wanted, but all he saw was the swirling fog of lust that hazed in his own. Soon enough, he obliged, breathlessly drinking in the view of her curves, her skin, her most private area that shifted in and out of view between restless thighs. The soft cheeks of her ass shone in the soft light of the spring, peeking out of the surface of the water, supported by her luscious, long legs.

He breathed harder, reveling in the experience, numb in his lust and almost unfeeling of the hand at his cheek going down his neck, fingers tentatively brushing along his broad chest. He was beginning to think of what he wanted to do, bringing up the fantasies of this girl he had denied himself this whole time.

Then, he felt her hands again. The one at his chest, returned at his cheek, only this time with more intent as she tilted his face towards hers. Her other, the one at his chest, fumbled underwater for his wrist, upon finding it, she gripped it, tight.

Mari’s heart was hammering, pounding. She breathed in hard, almost panting as she unsubmerged Elliot’s hand.

“I gave you permission to look. But now,  I’d appreciate it if you did more.”

She didn’t hesitate after that, quickly directing the hand in her grip to her breast. She gasped. Elliot gasped. Then, she whimpered, face red as he gave the first squeeze. It felt odd at first, different from when she would touch herself on restless nights. But then, his other hand joined in...only it went south, dipping into the water, caressing her upper thigh. Mari sighed at that sensation as well, and soon Elliot’s hands were touching her in earnest; the hand at her breast squeezed a little harder, flesh overflowing between its fingers, Elliot’s other hand at her thigh joining in with groping motions, appreciating the smoothness of her underwater skin, daring to move up to her ass, giving that softness yet another squeeze.

Mari heard him let out a long, long shuddering breath.

“Jesus Christ…” Elliot said in a whisper, breathless.

Mari watched his hypnotized gaze, smiling before letting out a small whimper again, feeling herself grow more and more aroused as those hands of his grew bolder, making her feel hotter than the water around them ever could. She saw  Elliot’s gaze grow more hungry, less hypnotized, and more driven.

Before long, Mari let out the first moan of many as she felt his underwater touch brush between her legs, slipping in, voluntarily being pressed by her squishing thighs.

Mari was losing control, rapidly. Of the situation, of Elliot, and most relevantly, her own body She let him know so with another wanton moan, eyes pleading. She shuffled forward, closing the distance between their bodies completely. Displaced water splashed onto the floor around them as she cast his hands aside, desperate for more than his fingers and squeezes. Clumsily she sat on his lap, ass on his thighs, legs parallel to his shoulders.

She looked deeply, almost desperately at him, panting now, quickly reaching for his hands to touch her again, to caress her, to ravish her.  

His own eyes were mischevous now, and he grinned. He took the hand that she guided to her thigh underwater and practically smacked it against her leg. She let out a squeak, eyes wide in surprise as he squeezed comfortingly, groping ever-so-gently before he went back to the gap between her thighs...and torturously slid the hand over her folds, feeling just how swollen her arousal was by rubbing the outerside of two fingers against it.

Mari shuddered out a moan, her fingers suddenly digging into his shoulders. Elliot felt himself throb, his own breath coming out in a shiver of pure arousal.

“ _nnn_...Mr. Mori…”

This time, it was Elliot’s turn to chuckle. He let a short silence follow the moan, sliding his hand against her snatch, putting just the smallest amount of pressure, up, down, up down, until he withdrew, smoothing his palm up to her hips, joining the other hand he withdrew from her chest.

“Elliot,” he said.

Mari opened her eyes to look at him then, trying to find the source of his amusement as well as being confused about why his hands weren’t on her breasts and easing their way up and down and up and down her maidenhood. She breathed harder then as his hands moved up her wet skin, feeling so gentle and hot up her sides, up her smooth back. Then his hands were now behind her head, and his eyes...the jade wasn’t melted warmness.

It was a green fire.

All Mari could see was _want_ , and right now, that’s exactly what she needed.

“Wh-What?”

“I said, Elliot,” he said, eyes drifting from her dazed eyes to her full lips. He kept them there. “That’s my first name, _miss_...and I’d appreciate it if you’d use it.”

Before the girl could reply, he pressed their lips together.

He took her first kiss, then her second, then her third, fourth, his hand furtively slipping behind her back, cupping the back of her head. She reveled in the feeling of it, the warm wetness of his lips, how he breathed hungrily when her leg brushed against his cock. She tried to keep up, kissing him back eagerly, pushing into his face, their teeth almost touching with ever blossom of her lips. Soon, her effort became completely futile as Elliot let go.

He was experienced and, unbeknownst to her, pent-up. He had fantasized about her as much as she had to him, and now, he was wasn’t going to let a single second with her body, with her sweet little mouth, go to waste. She squealed as she ran out of breath, pushing away to pant, to breathe for a few seconds, before being pulled in again, wetly puckering, slicking her thin lips against his with inexperienced vigor.

Elliot was about to shove his tongue past those perfect, sugary lips of hers when he felt her thigh rub against his throbbing arousal, and he had to tear himself away from her, pressing his panting mouth onto her shoulder. His hand absentmindedly caressed her hair, and Elliot leaned in to smell the scent of her neck as he caught his breath, calming his hips from thrusting at her instinctively.

“Christ, Mari, I’ve wanted you for so long...you don’t know how hard I tried to hold myself back.”

The words, hot against her skin, made Mari whimper.  This felt...so right, having his strong arms around her, her soft, malleable curves pressing against the muscle he usually hid with that hideous suit. Slowly she moved her head back, the wet hands at his shoulders at his cheeks now.

She softly pressed a kiss on his lips, pulling back, but his head following, another kiss, and another, as he refused to let her mouth free. Mari melted into another kiss, the tips of their tongues slicking over each other, wet and hot.

And finally, she separated from him, her golden pupils hazier than ever, eyes hooded in pure desire. She wanted to _talk,_ to at least retort to his comment, but his mouth and the way he looked at her was just so fucking irresistible. So one last time, she smashed their lips together again, heaving through her nostrils, feeling his tongue nudge hers, inviting it, inviting _her_ for more intimate contact, for kisses she didn’t know how to give.

But before she could fall for it, and Christ knows how much she wanted to, she unclasped herself from her mouth, kissed down his chin, panting into his neck. She untensed then, arms on his shoulders now as she caught her breath, feeling elated, feeling like her whole body was melting against his like butter on an open stove.

Her mind was a hazy mess of lust and contentment, and she never felt any more warm.

“God...Elliot, I've wanted you ever since I first saw you step off that bus,” she finally said, nuzzling her nose into his jawline as her hands followed the rolling droplets of water down his shoulders, to his broad, firm chest. She bit his chin, breathing in his musk before her mouth found the dip between his collarbone and the base of his neck.

She felt Elliot chuckle, the baritone of his verbal amusement reverberating through her own chest in a way that made her bite her lip.

“I've wanted you since I saw your picture in _Forbes_.”

Mari was glad she could hide her blush in the crook of his neck, as much as she was glad that his hand softly caressing her back felt _better_ than she ever could have imagined.

“I-It's not a contest, you know.”

“I just wanted to prove how hard it was to hold back from making a move on you, princess.”

Mari started at the word. She pulled back, surprising Elliot with the sudden intensity of her gaze. Her wet lip shuddered slightly with her pulse, and at this proximity, he could feel how hot her breath was as it wisped on his nose.

“Do you...do you really see me as that?”

It was a stupid question, but Mari was anything but sensible at this point, her fingers very close to pleasuring herself right then and there on his lap.

With the way Mari looked, so desperate and blushing, Elliot was close to doing the same, his ever-hardening erection poking her stomach to prove it.

“As...as a princess?” Elliot said. Caught up in the moment and the pure beauty of Mari’s golden eyes, he gave her a stupid answer. “Is there anyway _else_ for me to look at you?”

The way he trailed off his last sentence seemed to go straight to her ovaries. Biting her lip in a breathless shudder, Mari gave in. To the desire, the curiosity, the _need_ . Their lips locked together again, with kisses devoid of any control or romance, but pure lust, led by Mari’s own hunger. Their acquainted themselves with each other’s lips then, while Elliot made sure to acquaint his hands with the flesh of her waist, of her hips, of her thick _ass_.

Minutes passed, and then, Mari withdrew.

She breathed, nearly panted now, lips open, golden pupils dilated in pure desire. Light from a lantern behind her illuminated the interlacing gold of her blonde braid, and from where Elliot was sitting, she looked like a goddamn angel. A few more breaths and Mari pressed her forehead to his, breathing on his face, fingers going down his cheek, down his mouth. Elliot looked back at her, in the very same state. He softly buried his fingers in her blonde, his other hand caressing the nape of her neck.

They sat there, noses kissing, mouths an inch away, hot breaths making love in slow panting exhales.

“Pretend I’m not a princess for tonight, Elliot,” Mari said, her voice a hot breathy whisper. It sounded husky, and sultry, uncharacteristically _sexy_ for the girl who usually relied on teasing charm and a blase temperament.

Elliot breathed for a few more seconds, the opulent gold of her pupils the only thing he could see. He drowned in the way they shimmered, hazy with want for _him_ , Elliot Mori.

“So what are you tonight?” he finally said, feeling the fire in his groin being kindled hotter.

“A...woman,” Mari breathed hotly against his lips, every word, every syllable another link on the chains she had around him, on the spell she had rooting him to anywhere she was. “Teach me how to be a woman... _treat_ me like one.”

The fire in his groin was blazing now, almost blue-hot.

“Princess...you don’t know what you’re-”

Then, Mari closed her mouth over his, sloppily clasping, unclasping with his wet lips. From this point on, her responsibilities didn’t matter, the rumored merger, the results of Elliot’s appraisal, nothing. There was only her and Elliot and their bodies that squirmed in the heated pool, writhed for each other. And soon, Elliot lost himself in her, how wet her mouth was in his, how this girl wanted _anything_ he had to offer. And in the midst of her hungry kisses, her fingers tangled themselves into Elliot’s scruffy hair with a firm grim, and her tongue recklessly pushed past his lips.

Elliot let her swirl between his cheeks, his own tongue encouraging her exploration, swallowing her needy moans. Soon enough his own tongue was in her mouth, they would separate lips, saliva in thin strings between them, tongues entangled before the kisses would resume, Elliot trying his best to teach her, trying his best to keep from prying her legs open and taking her.

Wanton kisses joined with wanton groans, their bodies were slick and hot, grappling onto each other with lusted writhes. Elliot eventually did find his way between her thighs, and in the middle of their kissing and caresses, Mari complied, parting her legs, stumblingly repositioning her body to press against his completely. Water sloshed about in her endeavor, but throughout the soft shuffle of wet skin and limbs, their mouths remained connected, sighs of effort intermingled with the smacking of tongues and lips and teeth.

Eventually, she straddled him, wet breasts pillowing against his chest, and eventually, Elliot eased two of his fingers inside of her. Mari and her tongue withdrew from Elliot’s kisses, moaning loudly, moaning unabashedly as pleasure crashed through her in an alien rhythm, the fingers inside her easing in, in, in until she clenched, gasping, and Elliot would pull them out before pushing them in again, slowly, exploratory...until soon he had a rhythm, breaking it to curl and to ply his fingers apart and to rub her swollen, swollen clit.

Things were moving just at the pace she wanted: _fast_ . Fast, like the way Elliot began to _fuck_ her with those fingers, fast like the way she came, pink and maiden inner folds clenching with her fingers gripping his wrist, begging.

And then,

“Ell _iot..._ oh _fuck…_!”

Cursing.

She gyrated against him, her nipples, pink and pert and pebbly dragged against his chest with scinitllating friction. Water sloshed lewdly between her legs, her ass raised clear over the waterline as she felt like she was being lifted with invisible ropes, cumming again over Elliot’s touch, _squirting_ over its surface.

She convulsed, shivered, felt her whole world ripple and undulate with her, intoxicated with the nectar of orgasm. She never wanted it to end, never wanted Elliot to stop embracing her tongue with hers, kissing, _sucking,_ kissing down her skin to suckle on her breasts, grabbing them, adorning them with lustful care, undivided attention.

Mari lost count of how many times she came, but she still felt shivers, like hiccups, echo through her body as she panted into his neck. Her breath was too far gone to be caught, and she let it run off, lungs anchored by the booming weight of her rapid heart. Elliot was softly kissing the skin of her shoulder at this point, at in her position, she felt his erection pressing alluringly against her stomach. It reached just past her belly button, slight pulses making it brush against her skin.

Her breath escaped even further then, for she grew restless, imagining it, unable to see it, only to feel it pulsing against her, making her imagine how it would feel when it would penetrate her, wondering if pain wouldn’t stop it from _sheathing_ itself in her.

“Are you feeling like a woman yet, Mari?” Elliot said, his baritone rumbling pleasurably through her skins, easing her goosebumps.

Mari didn’t answer with words, not yet. She sat back on his lap, giving her ample space between his restless hands and her chest. She gave him a smile, one that was sultry, but also anxious, altogether inviting. Then, her eyes darted down to the object of her prime curiosity, to what her wet virgin snatch salivated about beneath the water. She raised her fingers to his chest, pushing him back, silently telling him to sit up, and scoot to a shallower area.

And so he did, so, until the water’s hot embrace was almost completely gone, covering only his legs and his hips and his waist...leaving his erection standing free, clear from the water, and bare and vulnerable to the girl who bit her lip, shuffling over to position her ass over his lap.

Then, her dainty hands slid down Elliot’s chest, and she grabbed it, stroking it, one hand tentatively running over its head.

“A _h_ …” Elliot hissed. The hands that were roaming about her skin remained firmly on her hips now. His eyes looked down at his neglected cock, feeling precum already beginning to leak from his tip. Her wet hands felt utterly sinful as they played around, inexperienced, but most importantly, _eager_ to get to know his prick.

He didn’t expect Mari to then begin stroking in earnest, as if she had practiced for this moment, feeling her hand tightly grasp him, the water on his veiny skin and her hands failing to dullen the feeling of her soft palm squeezing at _just_ the right amount of pressure. He didn’t expect Mari to be this naughty, this curious, this horny to play with him, the thought of the taboo, the thought of how goddamn lucky he was making him harder, thus making the experience that much more torturous, forcing his eyes to shut in sheer carnal bliss when his cock spurted out more precum in earnest against her hand. He didn’t expect himself to groan so loudly, to bite back a yelp as he throbbed almost _painfully_ , the head of his cock blue against the palm that smoothed against his urethra.

And he didn’t expect the sight he saw when he finally opened his eyes from the brief foreplay Mari had treated him with, seeing her breasts, water and bits of his spittle rolling in droplets around their soft curvature at eye-level, and, seeing (and oh, Jesus Christ, _feeling_ ) the head of his cock resting right underneath Mari’s hairless, soaking-wet virgin pussy, a pussy whose folds Mari kept open to compensate for his size, two of her fingers splitting them apart, giving him a peek into the pink softness within. This girl knew she had him wrapped around her finger, and she made a show of it, taking hold of his prick with her thumb and forefinger, letting it run up and down the slit where he had fingered her, where she had squirted when she had cum around his fingers.

“Maybe after this,” Mari said, her voice sounding huskier and just, _hornier_ than ever. “I’ll finally feel like a woman. So show me how a woman is supposed to do this, Elliot.”

He didn’t have a word to say, only a croak, and an elongated moan as she slowly, absolutely fucking _sadistically_ lowered herself onto his pulsing manmeat. He looked up at her, gripping her waist tighter, nails digging into that spotless skin of hers as she kept going.

_Schlp..!_

“Augh, _shit!_ ” Elliot said, breathless as the engorged head of his cock slipped into her.

They were connected now, his pulsating arousal feeling the rippling of her own. The sight alone was almost enough to make him cum; Mari’s mons, her succulent thighs around it, with steam of the water that covered his crotch up to the base of his manhood condensating in shiny droplets on her skin, softly descending down, down, down, to the slit of pink that was sucking him in with Mari’s two fingers shakily spreading herself, her other hand leaving the steadying of his erection to steady her body by digging, nails and all, into his shoulder.

Mari shivered, breathing in gasps as if somewhat had just punched her in the gut. Elliot was _big_. She didn’t give two shits if he was average or below average, for her, he felt huge. She was reluctant in lowering, tempted to just stay like this, but she couldn’t stop here, not when only his cockhead had penetrated her. She let a few more seconds pass to work up her courage, squeezing Elliot’s eager tip.

Then, she let gravity do the work, feeling her tight pinkness slowly being stretched out, filled for the first time with something bigger than any number of her dainty fingers combined, stealing away her breath as she tried to steady it.

She whimpered as he let her fill her, let him take her purity away. She had heard it would be painful, and it was, but above all, it just felt like something was filling her up,

 _everywhere_ , like her lungs were being pressed against her ribcage, her stomach being pushed out against the upholstery of her skin. She was grateful for her years of horseback riding, imagining her embarrassment and horror at the blood of a hymen pouring out of her on top of this fidgety inexperience.

“Ellio...t….” she choked out, repeating his name again when she felt it: she couldn’t go any lower, or else she would scream.

She breathed deeply, trying to expand the lungs that felt so constrained and so deprived of air, before she looked down. Mari’s eyes widened in utter horror; she had only taken in little more than half of him. She felt, barely heard, Elliot chuckle, letting out another whimper.

“Take it slow, baby...we’ve got all night.”

Did he just...did Elliot just call her “ _baby_ ”?

She clenched around him at that, biting her lip when, surprisingly, the sensation of clutching around something so large inside her, felt good. And apparently, it felt even better for him, his moan elongated, his fingers digging deeper into her sides.

She let in another shivering breath, and let out another shivering exhale, before gaining enough courage to raise herself up. Bringing her body _upwards_ around him wasn’t easier...but it was definitely less painful. In fact, she missed the sensation of being filled when she almost completely cleared of his length completely, shoving herself down onto him almost immediately, gasping, squeaking when his manmeat pulsed into her again. The process repeated, again, and again, faster now, again, more technique now, less clenching, again, _more_ clenching.

Eventually, clinging to the satisfaction of feeling filled, plugged, _whole_ , led Mari to a realization that millions of other women had discovered, and will discover until the end of time: sex felt _good._

After several haphazard reinsertions, Mari eventually found a rhythm. Up and down, up and down, she felt herself grow accustomed to his size, but most importantly, felt herself feeling pleasure with every rocking of her hips. It didn’t take long until the effort forced her to lean forward, breasts against his chest and her forearms pressing hard against his shoulders.

“Ah... _ah_ ….ahn…ah…!” she would moan, every downwards thrust bringing forth new bliss that she never felt before. She felt like her whole body was a bundle of nerves as she slid onto his length without even thinking about it anymore, missing his lips, kissing them as she continued to fuck. She didn’t realize that her snatch, so tight before, barely even able to handle two of Elliot’s fingers, was sucking him in completely now, firmly grasping him to his base. She sheathed him with every thrust of hers, water splashing in stray droplets, arousal leaking and mingling on the water’s surface.

Mari’s rhythm was reaching a fast pace, ass slapping into the water against his thighs, and it didn’t take long as her clit rubbed and rubbed and rubbed against his stomach that she would clench, _tight_ , and have her first orgasm during actual intercourse. It wasn’t the most electrifying or the most breathtaking of the night so far ( _that_ would probably go to his furious fingering and stimulation of her clit earlier in the evening), but it was definitely the most satisfying.

There wasn’t anything like cumming with that sensation of being filled to the brim, with the pulsing sensation of a man’s prick pushing out against the rippling pinkness of your folds. Soon enough, in her lazy orgasmic gyrations, she came again, squirting this time, her essence stickily clinging to Elliot’s stomach in strands of viscous quim.

In her pleasure, she completely disregarded the fact that Elliot was struggling.

His cock pulsed, and throbbed, and _pulsed_ , and _throbbed_ , over and over, trying to hold back, trying not to cum, because for fuck’s sake, Elliot was positively sweating, looking at Mari’s young, plump curvy body heave and rock against him, hearing her call out his name as his hardness would repeatedly plunge into her moistness, just _feeling_ how impossibly tight she was, how she _sucked_ him inside, coaxing him to near-orgasm every time she would slow down, inadvertently clenching him, forcing him past her heat as he left red marks with his nails on her hips, daring to grip the ample softness of her tits at one point.

Even now, as Mari caught her breath, rolling her hips in miniature gyrations with him still stuffed inside her, Elliot tried to think of anything else other than just thrusting upwards into her, rushing towards his completion and cumming all over her stomach. Mari clenched inside again, and he grimaced, letting out a hiss.

“Feeling it yet, Mari? Am I treating you like a woman?”

He didn’t hear her say anything, but again felt a pulsing tightness wrap him in a mad grip, and he also felt the lips at his neck curl into a smile. She pulled away, and the sight of her now, hair slightly more disheveled, her body nude but not awkward or bashful, but _confident_ , sitting on his dick, sultry smile less of a tool of seduction than an expression of her inner emotion, she _looked_ like a woman. One that was drop-dead gorgeous, and one that was enjoying this sex as much as he was.

His mouth suddenly felt dry. How fucking lucky could he be?

Mari leaned forward, planting a long, long wet kiss on his mouth. Her hands were around the back of his head, and she kept them there during the kiss, before her hands grabbed his wrists for the umpteenth time that night, this time guiding them to her breasts. He gladly accepted the request, familiar with the softness of her chest, but still eager to lose himself in their perfection, to coax out little whimpers and squeaks by pulling and toggling at her perfect, perky little nipples.

She leaned forward again, knees shuffling forward a bit as she raised herself up, the friction earning a soft gasp from both parties as her hands found his shoulders once more.

“Not yet,” she said, finally replying to his inquiry.

With his hands squeezing at her, groping at her still, and his eyes on hers, he smiled.

“And when will I be treating you like one?”

Mari answered that by digging _deep_ into his shoulder blades, and started rocking against him again. She moaned, uncaring of shame, uncaring of how she fingered her clit between their bodies to selfishly coax more orgasms, uncaring of how crude her words were when she _moaned_ out,

“When you fuck me until I can’t walk, and when this cock of yours _cums_ inside me…”

...so _that’s_ how fucking lucky he could be.

It took less than fifteen seconds for Elliot to process those words, look at her with eyes that _burned_ fiery green, and begin to thrust up into her for all he was worth, uncaring of holding back his orgasm. He suckled on her tits like a babe, biting into her nipple as his other hands found that ass that kept slapping into the hot spring, making ripples and sloshing waves with every downwards thrust of her ample frame.

More water splashed around them as the two lost themselves in the sensation of each other’s bodies, forgetting everything else, focusing only on their lust. Mari kept cumming again, and again, squirting between them. Every time she clenched, Elliot would clench back, his hands _slapping_ her rump before groping, squeezing the flesh that he had fantasized on restless nights, his mouth appreciating the finer details of her neck, before biting down, hard, making her squeak, making her _scream_ when he would give her that pain on the brink of an orgasm.

Soon, Mari stopped rocking her hips, stopped gyrating them. Instead, she braced onto Elliot’s shoulders for dear life, and just _impaled_ herself onto his cock, feeling his length digging deep, deep inside her every time, her breasts spraying droplets of warm springwater and sweat with every violent gravity-addled thrust.

“That’s it, _baby..._ yeah, it feels so fucking good, Mari, keep going, keep _going_ ,” Elliot said, urging her, encouraging her as he watched his angel work herself on him. It was hard to believe that less than an hour ago she was a virgin, not when she was moaning so loudly, cursing so carelessly as his cock dug into her, as she allowed his arms to drag her up and down his cock. She was gorgeous, and all his, the small loop of blonde on the side of her head bouncing, bouncing along with her.

There wasn’t any kissing as they kept fucking like this, keeping the pace vigorous, keeping the contact between their skin limited to their legs, their hands, and their intimates smashing into each other. There wasn’t anything else to them as Mari came again, and Elliot tumbled in the sex into his own orgasm. He pulled her down, making her squeal into his lips when his tongue shoved it between her teeth with the sole intent to fuck her mouth like his prick fucked her sopping pussy.

And soon, Elliot flew over the edge. With a shuddering yelp, he grabbed her hips, pouring all of his strength into his hands, making her ass slap against his thighs one last time before-

“ _Jesus fuck, Mari oh m-_ ”

The first rope of semen to shoot out of his urethra deadened all of his senses. He only felt the plumpness of her thighs being squeezed to oblivion by his fingers as the next rope spurted out, and the next, and the next. Cum gushed into her in vicious sticky white globs, pooling inside of her womb, some spurts jetting into the opposite wall of her pink chamber, the head of Elliot’s unloading cock right at its entrance.

The sensation was so alien, so strange to Mari, feeling her inner sanctum being injected with this hot, gooey substance in such rapid succession...she couldn’t describe it. But her body decided that it felt good, that it felt good enough for her to follow suit in being pushed over the edge, and she clung to him in shuddering gasps as she too shared in the climax.

As they lay there, cumming with each other, _in_ each other, time lost all meaning to Elliot. His orgasm continued to pulse, and he lost himself completely to the sensation of filling Mari up to the brim with his hot, sticky cream.

Soon enough, his cock let out a few final lazy spurts, and Elliot was left looking up at the stars, indigo mixed with the white of columning steam.

He sat up, when he felt movement, feeling Mari squirm in his lap. Looking between them, he saw the lewd sight of his load spurting back out from her snatch. Cum bubbled out in thick dollops into the water, white batter that spurted out in small bubbling torrents before floating away against her thigh. The sight was enough to revitalize him, but before he could thrust upwards and begin the process again, Mari unfortunately dismounted completely, strands and strands of sticky white following with her, webbing between her thighs, more thick globs of stickiness spilling onto the surface of the pool.

This was probably the end for tonight, but who was he to complain? This was definitely much more than he had expected from Mari, _much, much_ more than he had expected from a teenage virgin, no less.

She then settled on his lap again, smearing whatever was left of his overflowing cum onto his belly area, before she blocked the sight with her eyes.

They kissed. Lazily, wetly, familiar with each other’s mouths at this point. She felt her sigh contentedly against him, felt her hand at his cheek.

When they were done, Elliot wrapped an arm around her waist as she laid on top of him in the water, breathing warmth onto his chest. To his surprise, the moment of respite was brief, for before he even got the chance to close his eyes and just laze in the afterglow, she slinked off his body, standing in the pool, the water at her upper thighs.

Elliot watched her, something he knew she wanted, her eyes beckoning without a single word.

The lamplight of the inn cast a golden sheen across her wet body, shimmers of light dancing in silver glints on her mature curves. Elliot drank her all in, watched as one of her arms reached for the little loop of hair that had stayed intact even after all they had done, undoing it, letting her braid fall to the side of her head before running her fingers through that, too. She gave a little shake of her hair before continuing to walk to the water’s edge, satisfied.

Elliot couldn’t keep his eyes off of her, even as she crooked her finger, and he wordlessly got up, wading through the water behind her. Rivulets and beads of water and perspiration glinted everywhere on her delicate skin, bringing to attention the red marks of scratches, bruises, and the occasional handprint. Elliot winced at the sight, but also felt himself grow more and more aroused. Those were _his_ scratches, bruises, and handprints, and she had let him do it all to her without a single word of protest. And remarkably,  even with the marks he left on her, Mari looked as gorgeous as she did, as flawless as she did at the beginning of the night. As gorgeous as she had looked in that small article in _Forbes_ he had read a year ago.

But as they slowly began to finally reach the edge of the pool, he knew it was time to leave. He had gotten more than he had ever, ever expected, consequences be damned. He would miss this view of walking behind her, of the small leakage of white going down her thigh, the way her curves bunched together when she bent over to pick up her towel, how her eyes peeked over her shoulder coyly as she pressed her cheek to the towel on the ground..and how she reached her hands behind her, spreading her cheeks, letting more gobbets of cum leak out between her legs, giving him full view of her inner folds…?

Elliot looked at her incredulously, but found it difficult to focus on her peeking eyes when her ass was being offered to him, when the swollen lips of her steaming, needy pussy were on full display for him.

Then,

“Fuck me some more, Elliot Mori.” Mari said. Nothing else, except the slight shake of her rump.

It only took a second or two for Elliot to get over his surprise, until a grin planted itself on his face, and an eager throb shot through his his prick. A few more wading steps, and Elliot gripped the base of his cock firmly, panting in anticipation as he pushed forward, almost drooling at the sight of Mari’s spread, sopping treasure. He pressed his fingers on the small of her back, wet against her golden-white skin. He let out another shuddering breath, eyes on the throbbing head of his prick kissing her _steaming_ and drenched pussy. He looked up at Mari, meeting the single eye she managed to peek over her back. She smiled, a smile no girl would ever be able to accomplish, a smile only a woman could pull off as she bit into her lip in a way that shot a pulse straight through his groin.

With that, Elliot moved his hands’ grip to her hips before finally pushing himself inside of her spread heat. He slipped in with a struggle, pushing himself inch by inch into her scintillating folds, grunting at how tight she grappled at his veiny lust. Then, he finally hilted himself, pulsing in defiance with the pinkness asphyxiating him with its own carnal rhythm.

Mari felt a few tears pool up in her eyes. Even after enjoying the sex of minutes’ earlier, the size of Elliot, the sheer fact that he was sheathed was still painful. _Especially_ in this new position, where it felt like he was kissing the bottom of her throat. She breathed deep, trying her best to adjust around him, and thankfully, he didn’t move, pulsing inside of her, trying his best not to reach another climax then and there, she assumed with a grin. She felt stray shots of his cum hugging tight against her walls, felt herself stretching to accommodate him.

Elliot squeezed the skin of Mari’s hips a little tighter, more shuddering breaths passing his lips until suddenly, the hands she had entrenched into her ass let the glistening cheeks slip back into place, suffocating Elliot’s length completely, doughy and pillowing. He heard her let out a squeak as his hips inadvertently moved a stray inch back and forth, trying, trying not to reach his end.

He let out a grunt at his predicament, the sight of his cock buried into Mari from behind alone hardening him completely again. To make matters worse, he suddenly felt the hot, gripping friction of inner flesh dragged up his cock as Mari’s hips moved up...making Elliot hiss as he watched the streamlets of water on her rump spatter when her cheeks smashed into his crotch. There wasn’t any pain in the way she continued, withdrawing, smashing against him again.

“I thought I asked you to _fuck_ me some more, Elliot...you’ve looked at me enough for tonight, haven’t you?”

Elliot looked up at the source of the breathless lilt, catching Mari’s impish half-mast dazed glare of gold. He felt her continue moving, working herself on his manhood, watched as she repositioned her hands to grip the towel on the damp ground like reins, and finally snapped when her pace increased and she let out a long, long minxish moan after his length curved inside her in a way that made her supple curves shudder.

So, readjusting his squeezing grip on her sides, he pulled his hips back, surging forward into her heated, needy thickness, and fuck her more he did.

Like two beasts, Elliot and Mari groaned, yelped, cursed loudly into the night as he buried himself into her over and over. His manmeat filled her deeper than any other moment in that night, scraping out his previous load to cascade down in white blobs onto the water’s surface. Their thighs began to kiss in moist slaps until they began to roughly smash together in wet slap, slap, slaps. Elliot had no regard for her pleasure, but he knew she was feeling as good as she was.

With his limited roster of women he had slept with, soberly or drunkenly, there was never anyone who was this wet for him, who utterly asphyxiated, _suffocated_ his throbbing arousal as much as Mari did. Sex had always felt good, but it was also a tad awkward or off-putting, but sex with Mari felt right, it felt so natural in ways he couldn’t explain. For the first time in a long time Elliot felt like he didn’t need to hide anything about himself. And for the first time in a long time, he didn’t feel the need to repress what he truly felt, hands greedily digging into the flesh of her thighs, reveling in the way her ass jiggled every time his hips would crash into those buxom cheeks.

“More...faster, Elliot... _nnagh...more!_ ”

Mari screamed for Elliot’s cock without a single shred of decorum nor a single strand of duplicity. She was unraveled, like the braid that normally kept her hair orderly and neat; her blonde was frizzled and tangled, unkempt as her entire being. She had no ulterior motives, no facades. All Mari wanted was _Elliot_ , and her every scream was proof of that. Pure carnal lust dictated her actions now, years of hiding and repressing completely discarded in these moments, every thrust of his hips into her siphoninh tightness rocking her entire frame, giving her the free rein to scream and squeal her desires into the night air, completely unrestricted and free.

She came from the mere feeling of his cock roughly pistoning into her, her essence dripping, dripping below her as the effort of the sex made her begin to sag. She clutched the towel before her with a tighter grip, but no grip was tight enough from the sensations robbing her of all sanity, of any thought other than the desire to be fucked harder.

Water churned violently with the effort expounded into the rough sex. As hypnotized and entranced as he was by the sight of Mari’s bubble butt reverberating his thrusts up to her lower back, he wanted to be closer, for more intimate contact; she was too beautiful to be fucked into the ground, as much as he enjoyed doing so. His hands moved up from her wide hips, smoothing up her smooth sides until roughly, he grabbed her breasts.

He pulled her up to him, succeeding in keeping the pace going, fucking her with her back against his chest, his hands clutching her supple breasts. Her shampoo and perfume mixed with her sweat, a scent that drove Elliot into her harder, making his hands on her teats rougher. Her own hands entangled into his hair, gripping for dear life as she fingered her clit into another orgasm, gripping chokingly around his cock as she came for the umpteenth time. She was the first to stick out her tongue, an offer he eagerly took with his own , their panting mouths once again a mess of lips and dribble.

No more words were exchanged as the pace reached a fever pitch. Rapid slapping of their flesh outdid the loudness of churning water, wet sloppy slurping sounds of Mari’s accommodating snatch sucking in every violent drive of Elliot’s manmeat outdoing the grunting primal cries of pleasure swirling between their dripping conjoined tongues.

Mari came twice more before Elliot tore himself away from her mouth and dug his hungry teeth into her sweaty shoulder, and, with a few more heaving thrusts, unleashed his second load into her awaiting womb.

Most of the semen immediately spilled out of her, her womb filled to capacity with his cream. Spunk spurted in thick, thick jets before bubbling out of her, combined with previous loads in white-hot yogurty globs, dollops and gobules of viscid whiteness cascaded from her tight moistness onto the surface of the awaiting spring water. Every rope of cum that he shot into her weakened Elliot’s legs until he was forced to kneel, setting Mari down gently on the ledge as he continued to pump her full of his creamy lust, hips lazily rolling into her.

By the end of it, Elliot unceremoniously splashed onto the water’s ledge, panting for breath. Mari was in the same state, rolling over to her back on the rock-tiled ground, chest heaving with every pant. A few minutes past before Mari sat up on the water’s edge.

She spread her legs open a bit, watching as small streams of Elliot’s seed poured out of her, dribbling until white spilled over into the spring.

Mari felt whole. In a way she couldn’t quite describe, the pleasure of sex was overshadowed by the satisfaction of conquest, of winning over Elliot and slaking her needs. But most of all, she knew for a fact that this wasn’t the last time she would do this with him. Not the copulation (though there would be plenty of that, if his performance tonight was any indication of his skill), but just...being with him, baring herself in ways she never could to anyone else.

She lazily looked over at him, hair completely disheveled and frizzled, bite marks accompanying the variety of other blemishes on the soft pampered skin she was so proud of. Elliot looked back, and in his jade she saw the same look of contentment.

Then, as she subtly spread her legs and hooded her eyes with a smile, Mari saw the same spark rekindled.

“So...would you mind telling me about this...rumored merger?”

Elliot stood, fully erect. He waded over to her, not hesitating in plunging his fingers between her thighs, kissing her full on the lips, letting her arms encircle his neck.

The only merger that mattered in that moment was the reconnection of their lust, the reacquaintence of their lips. With the princess’ supple body still keen, the knight ravished and lavished her, corporate dynasties forgotten in the swirl of steam and the hot embrace of skin as they continued making love into the night.


End file.
